


Snape's Assignment

by Perfica



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-27
Updated: 2005-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfica/pseuds/Perfica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Severus have just started a relationship, when Harry begins to wonder what Severus sees in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snape's Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an alternative reality where Harry is over eighteen and attending Hogwarts.

“Five minutes left.”

Severus Snape swore under his breath and cast a malevolent gaze at Harry Potter, who leaned back in his chair and smirked.

“Not as easy as you thought, is it Professor,” he drawled the last word out, leaned back in said Professor’s chair and put his feet up on said Professor’s desk, shoes nonchalantly swinging close to piles of teetering parchment and assorted bottles.

What had started out as a laughable challenge had quickly degenerated into a contest of wills. Harry, bored in the late afternoon after a day of flying and helping Hagrid with his creatures, had surprised Severus by turning up in his dungeons. Hogwarts was dull over the holidays, and the lack of interesting company had thrown the two of them together with such repetitiveness, that both were unable to work out why they hadn’t done ‘It’ before. Snape had opined that Harry’s age had put a stopper on any advances he’d wished to make in the past, while Harry had suggested he’d been too scared to approach Snape lest he lose some of his more favourite body parts in an overzealous bout of hexing. But they had sorted themselves out, and had spent the last two weeks in a delightful haze of discovery and mutual admiration.

Severus, in the middle of an important potion, and not expecting to see Harry until after dinner (in his quarters, more suitably dressed and definitely more pliant) had not been able to resist falling back into his long accustomed manner when confronted with the stubborn Gryfindoor – he’d yelled. And bellowed. And told Harry in no uncertain terms that what they did in their private time must not interfere with what occurred in their public lives.

Harry had listened silently; jaw tensing as the verbal haranguing increased in vitriol and volume. His sharp intake of breath was the only thing heard as Snape’s last words seemed to echo and swirl in the chamber – “I don’t know why I bother with you!”

As soon as the words had left Severus’ mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake. Harry’s eyes glinted and his mouth thinned into a hard line. “You’re right Professor, I don’t know why you bother with me either.”

Snape had quickly moved to the angry young man standing in front of him, hands outstretched but not touching. “Harry,” he said quietly, a dour, sorrowful look on his face. “I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I didn’t mean what I said. I’m having the most ridiculous time sorting out this new formula…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Harry interjected. He sighed heavily and looked up into the black eyes staring down at him, an ounce of pleading in their edges. “I guess I’ve been wondering why you bother me too, these last couple of weeks. They’ve been…strange and unexpected and…I’ve been happy.” These last words were said quietly, almost into his own chest.

Snape did touch him then, slender fingers gently cupped his chin and raised Harry’s face to his. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” he said quietly, hoping the boy could see in his eyes what he was unable to say out loud.

Harry smiled and placed his hand on the one softly stroking his face. “I think I know. I see it sometimes, in the dark, in your rooms. And I can feel it when you…when we make love.”

Snape’s eyes softened and he pulled Harry into his embrace, one arm wrapped possessively and tightly around his back, the other seeking and stroking the fine tangled hair at his nape.

“And isn’t that enough Harry?” he’d asked, walking into the trap as stupidly as the most trusting Hufflepuff.

“Actually,” Harry replied, leaning back in his embrace so Snape could see the cheeky grin, “it’s not.”

Which led to his current predicament. Harry had insisted that, as Severus had had so much fun torturing him in the dungeons these last six years, Harry deserved some of his own back. He’d set Snape a task; he had fifteen minutes to write ten things he liked about Harry.

Snape’s lip had curled when he’d heard the assignment, some of his earlier irritation infiltrating his face. He’d spluttered and proudly said that he was above such foolish nonsense. Harry had suggested that if he felt he was unable to complete that challenge, he could say five things he liked about Harry to his face right then. Snape, seeing he wouldn’t win this argument (and not wanting to ruin the satisfying arrangement they had going), took the Slytherin way and accepted the extra time.

Harry had laughed right in his face and said he was lucky he hadn’t been given only ten minutes; he wanted to show his Professor that it was possible to set reasonable standards when it came to someone’s ‘education’.

Harry had led Severus to Harry’s usual seat in the classroom; accio’d parchment, ink and quill, conjured up a floating hourglass and said happily “You may begin.”

Harry sat at Severus’ desk, amazed to see that his idea had been accepted and with a minimum of fuss (well, he thought, a minimum of fuss considering who the other participant is). It wasn’t until Snape had yelled at Harry that he’d begun to question what they were doing. It was still too soon in their relationship, or dalliance, or whatever it was that they had, to be questioning each other’s motives. But when Snape had fallen back on his old trick of fury, Harry had taken strength in that hard corner of his Gryfindoor heart and stood up for himself. Whilst their behaviour with each other was not illegal or immoral (considering both their ages), it was unusual, and secretly, neither looked forward to the new school year nor Dumbledore’s inquisitive glances.

“One minute left,” Harry chanted as he watched green powder sift slowly in the golden hourglass hovering between the two. Snape raised his head and snarled. For the first minute or so he’d alternated glaring at the blank parchment and glaring at Harry. When Harry had done nothing but grin at him, occasionally batting his eyelashes in a manner he no doubt thought was cute (and which Snape found irritating beyond reason), he’d lowered his dark head to the desk and began to write furiously. Harry had struggled to hold back his laughter as he watched his new lover scribble and cross out whole sentences, muttered curses occasionally heard.

“Time’s up!” Harry yelled as the last grain of sand hit the lower bulb. Severus finished his sentence and slammed his quill to the desk, arms crossed on his chest in annoyance.

“Professor Snape, are you ready for your presentation?” Harry had asked teasingly as he swung his legs off the desk and sat upright in his chair.

“I am Mister Potter. Are you ready to receive it?” Severus asked as he stalked over to Harry. Pushing Harry’s chair back, he sat himself on the edge of his desk facing him, long legs imprisoning both Harry’s body and chair. Harry swallowed thickly, appreciating the view and running a hand mischievously up Severus’ inner thigh.

“Mister Potter,” Severus said darkly, trying to stop his traitorous body from pushing itself into Harry inquisitive hands. “Since I’ve had the good grace to follow your earlier request, surely you should show me the same consideration and listen to my speech. You do want to hear what I’ve got to say about you, don’t you?”

Harry’s hand froze and he looked uncertainly at Snape. “I think so,” he said hesitantly.

“Good boy,” Severus replied, removing Harry’s hand from his body and placing a quick kiss on the top of his head. He settled himself more comfortably on the desk and with a wicked gleam in his eye, used his most professorially voice to say “Ten things I like about Harry Potter.”

His plan had worked; at the sound of that honeyed voice, Harry’s eyelids slid down until they were half-shut and a moan of appreciation escaped his mouth.

“Concentrate Mister Potter, or all this writing will have been for nothing,” Severus said huskily as he quickly looked away from the heated vision in front of him and began to read.

“One. I admire the way he rides his broomstick when he practices Quidditch. Even though his arse is inevitably sore after those exertions, I’m quite enjoy the fact that I get to play with it anyway.”

Harry squeaked in surprise and his eyes flew open. “Hey, that’s not nice.”

“Nice, Mister Potter?” Severus drawled as he raised his eyebrow sardonically. “Nice is a word I’m not familiar with. Now hush, the instructions were that I was to write ten things I liked about you, not ten things you wished I liked about you.”

Harry grumbled a bit then waved a hand to show he could go on.

“Thank you,” Snape replied sarcastically. “Two. I like the fact that his hair is always messy, no matter how hard he attempts to tame it. It brings to mind how his hair looks after he’s been enjoying several hours of hard shagging.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Harry muttered.

“Item three,” Severus continued, not pausing to allow the interruption. “I’m fond of the shocked look he gets on his face when he has been caught doing something he…knows…he…shouldn’t.”

Harry blushed, trying to forget the scene that had occurred when he’d been caught looking through Severus’ cupboards. His innocent pleas of “But I was only curious!” had led to some quality time spent together, during which Severus had demonstrated to Harry the importance of respecting other people’s privacy, and had involved a bathtub, ice-cream and Severus’ ceremonial satin robes. Severus noticed the slow rise of red creeping up Harry’s face. “Actually, I quite enjoyed teaching you that little lesson.”

Harry grimaced and said, “Get on with it, you git.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere, Potter. Four,” Severus continued, “I admit that he has quite an intelligent mind, even if he chooses not to use it in important classes.”

Harry snickered.

“Five. I like impersonation he does of a rabbit when someone is licking his balls.”

Harry snapped a soft punch at Snape’s stomach, Snape countered by displaying the behaviour he’d just alluded to. The sight of his Professor’s nose crinkling as his eyes rolled alarmingly was not amusing. Correct, but not amusing.

“Six. I most certainly enjoy the long moan that escapes him when I am easing myself into his tight, hot…”

“Next!”

“Seven. His hands are very strong, very capable. He puts them to good use when he strokes my…” Severus paused. Harry stared. “Back.”

“You think you’re funny, do you?”

“Surely my quick wit is something that attracted you to me?”

“More like half your wit,” Harry mumbled. He stood up. “Are you nearly done? As entertaining as the Snape Comedy Show is, you haven’t really answered my question. Most of your points are about sex. Now I know you’re not that dirty-minded, so what’s going on? Having difficulty finding something really nice to say about me?”

Severus put the parchment down on the table and observed the slightly huffed man in front of him.

“What would you have me say, Potter?” he whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Would you wish me to say that a look from you makes my breath catch in my throat? That your shining eyes looking up at me, green with trust, makes me doubt my sanity?” Harry felt the soft tickle of Severus’ breath move over the pink cup of his ear.

“That the smell of you; sweaty, unspoiled, musky, makes my mouth water?” Severus’ fingers moved slowly up Harry’s ribs, caressing him softly through his training sweatshirt.

“That hearing your voice, even from the other side of the room, sends shivers of delight down my spine, and it is all I can do to keep my sneer from changing into a smile?” Harry’s neck arched as Severus nibbled delicately on the moist, offered flesh.

“Or that I can never, ever, get enough of the taste of you; crisp, fragrant, Harry-flavoured flesh.” Harry’s fingers desperately dug into Snape’s shoulders and he moved to press fervent, blind kisses into Severus’ face and neck.

“Am I the type of man to say these things Potter? Do you believe that I am the type of man who lays awake at nights, reviewing your every move, our every conversation, who repeats and replays every instance of kindness and affection you have shown me? After all these years of knowing me, do you believe me to be the sort of person who is afraid to breath too loudly, to move too suddenly, lest he wake his lover and so end their moments together?”

Severus’ hands fell to Harry’s back, pulling him deeper into his embrace. They stood pressed against each other; joined at sternum and stomach and crotch. “Are these the words of a lover that you expected from me, Harry? The words of someone who loves, and is loved?”

Harry’s hands threaded themselves into Severus’ hair and pulled his face down to his level.

“Yes,” he whispered against Severus’ lips. “I would expect those words to come from someone who loved, and was loved. And I know exactly what type of man you are Severus Snape. I always known, it just took me a while to see it.”

“Well then Harry Potter,” Severus breathed, stroking his lips lightly against Harry’s, “We’ll just keep it our little secret.”


	2. Potter's Reward

Harry tightened his hold around Snape’s body, knowing that for the moment, this was the closest thing to an admission of genuine affection he’d receive from the solitary man. Harry had found that most people spoke casually, revealed confidences carelessly and expressed emotions flippantly, but after so many years in the Professor’s presence, knew that what you heard was what you got. Severus Snape was never one to suffer fools gladly – it was amazing to Harry that, after so many years of balancing on the edge of danger as a spy, Snape still had a part of his brain that connected his thoughts straight to his mouth, without the usual bypass of tact. It was this honesty that made Harry feel so secure.

“Thank you,” Harry said softly, more to himself than to the other man.

“For what?” Snape enquired, hands moving leisurely on his back.

“For this. For being you. For saying those things. For allowing me to do this.”

Snape voice carried a tinge of amusement. “I’ve recently discovered, Mister Potter, that there is not much I wouldn’t allow you to do, if you wanted me to.”

Harry pushed back from his lover’s arms with a daft grin plastered on his face. “I know that now, so that’s why I’ve decided to reward you.”

“Oh really?” Snape taunted, his hands moving from back to hips. “And what is my reward for indulging your tomfoolery?”

Harry eyes darkened sultrily. “Assume the position, Professor.” Snape’s eyes narrowed; since both of them had spent a large part of their lives in a British boarding school and had listened to the many rumours that floated like flotsam in the collective memory of the populace, he had an idea as to what Harry was alluding.

Harry snorted. “Not that Severus. Although,” he added as an afterthought, “That’s something we’ll have to try one day.” Snape let out a hiss of delight, so far in their altogether too brief sexual relationship, Harry had been content to be dominated and taught by his more masterful lover. The idea of that training being turned upon himself exploded a fireball of desire in the pit of his stomach.

Harry watched the internal machinations of Snape’s mind and licked his lower lip. “This position, Professor,” he said huskily and pushed the older man’s body backward. Snape’s hips hit the table and his hands moved by reflex to brace himself against the wood. He watched as Harry lowered himself gracefully to the floor, robes billowing as he knelt in front of Severus’ exposed body.

“What are you doing Harry?” Severus croaked, the lowering afternoon sun cutting a swathe of light across his features.

“Grading you on your presentation,” Harry replied cheekily as his hands moved Snape’s robes away from his lower body. Severus’ lithe legs were encapsulated in tight black material, the linen pressing against his splayed knees and thighs.

“You’ve been so very good,” Harry crooned, his nimble hands making short work of the belt and buttons in front of him, “I want to show you how much I appreciate your…hard work.”

Harry’s hands caught the sides of Snape’s open trousers and tugged them down until they rested above his knees. He sat back on his heels and looked at the sight he had exposed; taunt white stomach, curly thatch of shadowy curls, hard heated flesh framed by a pushed up black shirt above and pushed down pants below. A picture of white-hot heat framed in darkness.

“Beautiful,” he sighed as his mouth descended on Snape’s cock.

Snape’s eyes dropped shut, all sensory information focussed on feeling the warm, wet cavern surrounding his dick. He resisted the impulse to thrust and simply revelled in the feeling of that agile tongue moving up and down his shaft. Harry’s palms pushed heavily into his hipbones, holding him in place against the wooden desk. Severus looked downwards and saw Harry’s head bob gently up and down, eyes shut in concentration.

“Harry!” he called. This was the first time they had ever enjoyed each other’s bodies in daylight. Harry’s eyes opened sultrily and he removed his mouth to say in a slurred voice, “Talk to me. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you see. I want to hear your voice.”

Snape knew the sensation his voice created in Harry and thought, if this was the only way he was going to contribute to their love-making, he’d do the best damn job of it he could do.

“I see you,” he began, voice low in need. “On your knees in front of me, your beautiful mouth sucking at me…ohh!” he exclaimed, as Harry introduced tiny love bites to his repertoire.

“I…I see your hands on me, touching my thighs, pushing into my skin, rubbing me….rubbing me.” Snape’s capacity to speak was stopped suddenly as Harry’s throat opened and descended down the long hard heat of his cock, until he could feel the head pushing against the back of that talented throat.

“Oh God…your hands…your hands are rubbing my balls, they’re kneading them, oh it feels too good Harry, so good, so good,” his voice trailed off as tendrils of electricity move around his balls and stomach.

Harry’s mouth popped off his dick, lips pursed as he blew warm air against the slippery shaft. His hands continued to pull the silky skin up and down. “Tell me what you want,” he repeated, tongue taking casual swipes of the pearly liquid escaping the soft head.

“Oh fuck…,” Severus drawled, his voice dropping an octave as his hips began to move without volition. “I want to fuck that mouth of yours, I want to come in your throat, I want you to swallow me whole,” he moaned erratically, years of pent-up desire for the man at his knees in front of him coming to the forefront of his conscious mind.

“Harry!” he yelled as an inquiring finger ran between the cheeks of his arse.

“Keep talking,” Harry murmured, pressing harder.

Snape began to babble. “I want to suck you and lick you and fuck you until you scream my name, until you tell me to stop.”

“That’s one thing I’ll never do,” Harry said gravely, swiping his hand over his wet mouth as he stood up. Snape’s desire had reached fever pitch, he grabbed the smaller body, twisted him around and threw him on the desk until Harry lay sprawled on his back.

“Oh Professor, you do care!” Harry teased as he stretched his arms above his head, chest and pelvis pushed up to show his own need. Snape’s eyes opened wide, his pupils dilated and his breathing became unsteady as he threw himself on the boy and ravaged his mouth with his own.

The kisses he pressed on Harry’s lips were frenzied and unskilled. Severus’ hands ran erratically up and down the firm body beneath him; probing, stroking, pressing. Harry moaned into his mouth as a hand suddenly encapsulated the hot package between his thighs.

“You want this?” Severus asked as he pressed butterfly kisses down his exposed throat.

“Yes,” Harry groaned, driving himself up into the slender fingers. Snape pushed himself up off the desk and gazed down at the wanton figure in front of him; legs spread open, hands thrown up in submission above his head, glasses hanging precariously off his nose. Snape delicately removed the glasses and ran possessive hands up his body until they cupped his head. He leaned close to his prey and whispered to him, “Now, it’s my turn to reward you, Mister Potter.”

Harry growled in appreciation and retorted, “Do it.”

Severus’ hands made short work of the clothing in front of him; material was removed quickly and steadily until Harry’s naked form lay in front of him. He pulled Harry’s hips towards him until his knees were up, arse and feet planted solidly on the table below.

Snape gave the exposed man a wicked grin and knelt in front of him. He pressed the heel of his hand over Harry’s puckered opening, his palm and fingers entwining around the swollen balls and cock.

“Expurgo ceroma,” he whispered the cleansing and lubrication spell and felt a wave of heat pass from his hand into Harry’s pelvis. Harry’s body thrust suddenly at the new sensation, a delightful tingle spreading throughout his lower region. Just as the feeling was beginning to dissipate, he cried out as hands held his ankles securely to the desk and a flat, warm tongue licked the entire length of his spread arse cheeks. He could feel the bony protrusion of Snape’s nose pushing the downy cheeks apart as his tongue wormed and wiggled around his hole, wetly lashing the tender flesh.

“Oh, fuck me,” Harry garbled, unable to get the picture out of his mind of his Professor and lover on his knees in front of him, mouth and tongue and teeth delving into his most hidden part.

“Eventually,” Severus breathed into his flesh. Harry’s cock twitched helplessly on his stomach as his knees fell open even more. Snape took the opportunity to spread his ankles further, exposing more of Harry’s body to his greedy eyes.

“A meal fit for a king,” Severus said as he began to suck the pink muscles open to his scrutiny. Harry sobbed and reached for his dick, hands moving harsh and erratic as he began to tug himself into orgasm.

“Please Severus,” he begged, “Please, I can’t take it anymore…fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he said repeatedly, overwhelmed by sensations of sucking and licking and pulling. Laying one more wet, slow lick up the crevasse, Snape stood up and placed his hands on Harry’s open thighs. Harry squirmed underneath his aroused glare, one hand still flaying his cock as the other moved restlessly around his chest, pinching and stroking nipples and skin.

Snape placed the head of his erect penis at the ready entrance and paused for a moment to freeze the picture in front of him in his mind for eternity. Harry’s eyes swam as he ran his hands softly along the wiry strength of Severus’ wrists. “Thank you,” Harry said softly, a slight smile on his face.

Snape could not hold back after that admission, he pushed himself in slow and steady until his entire length was branded in the heat of his lover’s body. He leaned over until their chests were pressed tightly together, Harry’s hardness trapped between their stomachs. Severus’ hands gently brushed the hair out of Harry’s eyes until their eyes were locked onto each other’s. He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped, not sure if he could explain to Harry what he felt.

“I know,” Harry agreed with the unspoken sentiment and lifted his hips. Severus felt the movement of tight flesh surrounding his cock and pushed back in response. Hands braced on either side of Harry’s head for balance, while Harry’s flexible legs surrounded and enclosed his body, he moved deeply and reverently, picking up speed as the intensity in their bodies grew. Harry felt the coarse hairs on their stomachs rub against his leaking cock, splinters of pleasure running up and down its length. Heat and friction moved between them and around them as they ground together towards their common goal, hard flesh pounding and slapping with steady rhythm.

“Oh now!” Harry yelled as his back arched, the pulses of his orgasm coating their stomachs and chests. Severus’ hands moved from their position and clutched Harry’s face, his kisses as deep and as hard as the cock he pounded into the delectable arse moving under him. As those muscles clenched and vibrated in the throes of ecstasy, his own release was milked and pulled from his body, wave after wave of thick joy filling Harry’s body. Harry returned the kisses with alacrity, worshipping the man above him with tongue and lips.

Eventually Severus’ throbbing stopped and their kisses quietened as the bodies started to uncoil. Severus placed a steady hand under Harry’s neck and pulled the quivering, sweaty body towards him. Hands roamed gently across each other skin, abating heated flesh and smoothing tense muscles. Harry wrapped his legs around Snape’s waist, pulling him into a glowing cocoon of warmth. After a time, even those passionate kisses stopped until they stayed motionless in each other’s arms. Snape’s thumb moved up and down the curved velvet of Harry’s neck as Harry stroked the sparsely furred chest in front of him.

“Harry.” Snape said softly.

“Severus,” Harry replied equally as quiet, looking into the shadowy eyes.

Severus’ eyes grew large and hazy as his lips twisted in a slight grin. Harry laughed out loud with pleasure; for those who knew how to read Snape, that was a magnificent compliment indeed.


End file.
